


Reefer Madness

by saltandbyrne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Community: spn-masquerade, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Shotgunning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4885195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltandbyrne/pseuds/saltandbyrne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam knows that smell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reefer Madness

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 3 of spn-masquerade for the prompt: Kevin has somehow come into possession of marijuana (maybe someone in Branson sold it to him, maybe he found an old MOL stash that's still good), and Sam comes across him while he's smoking. Kevin's got a crush on Sam, and he's brave when he's stoned. Before he knows it he's in Sam's lap, breathing the smoke into his mouth.

Sam knows that smell.

 

It takes him a minute to place it.   He’s half asleep and halfway back from the bathroom when he notices it, smoky and sticky and green.

 

Who the fuck is smoking weed in here?

 

Sam follows his nose down the hallway, scratching at his stomach under his shirt.  His pants are too big and they hang off his hips, barely held up by the valiant effort of his drawstring. The floor is cool against his bare feet and Sam just had a long nap. All in all he’s felt worse, considering.

 

“Dean?”

 

Dean hasn’t been big on smoking weed since the whole Don thing.  Half of that had been Dean’s fault anyway, but it’s something Sam tries to avoid bringing up. Sam rounds the corner to the main study, tables piled with books and papers and empty coffee cups. They’ve all been doing double duty on the demon tablets.

 

“Charlie?”

 

The study and side room are both empty. Sam wanders off down another hallway, sniffing.

 

It doesn’t just smell like weed. It smells like _good_ weed.

 

He wouldn’t put it past Charlie to have a stash somewhere.  He’s pretty sure no one can play twelve straight hours of Elder Scrolls sober.

 

Rounding the bend into their ersatz living room, Sam blinks. 

 

“Kevin?”

 

Kevin gives him a huge grin.

 

“Saaaaam, oh my God.”

 

He’s sprawled over a loveseat, one arm tucked behind his head.  A trail of white smoke curls from the joint perched between his fingers.

 

“You won’t believe what I found.”

 

“Uh, I’m gonna guess you found some weed?”

 

Kevin bursts out laughing, ending with a few coughs.

 

“You are such a good guesser.”

 

Sam smiles.  Kevin’s been taking it harder than any of them, translating for hours on end without a single complaint.  It’s nice to see him laugh.

 

Kevin takes another hit, blowing smoke through his lips and giggling again.

 

“I found this fancy ass case with all these wires,” Kevin explains, wheezing a little as he blows out the last of his hit.

 

“It’s totally some old dude’s stash. Like, cryogenically frozen.”

 

He shakes his head, slightly bloodshot eyes going wide.

 

“I don’t think weed like this was supposed to exist back then.  It’s got crystals you can see from space on it.”

 

Sam arches an eyebrow.  He’s not sure they’re ever going to uncover all the weird shit tucked away in here.

 

“It terrifies me to say this but it could ostensibly be from the future. Or, like, the back then future.”

 

“You need to ostensibly sit down and smoke this with me,” Kevin stage-whispers for no apparent reason as he shifts on the loveseat and pats at a space for Sam.

 

Kevin’s wearing an old pair of Sam’s basketball shorts and an undershirt, which is comically appropriate for someone getting high. That tight tank top also gives Sam some inappropriate thoughts.  Kevin’s all lean muscle wherever he looks.

 

Sam perches on the edge of his seat and plucks the joint from Kevin’s hand.

 

“Kevin, when did you learn to roll a joint?”

 

It’s not a joint, it’s a goddamn masterpiece. One of Sam’s Stanford roomates used to roll a pretty sweet spliff, learned it from his hippie father or something, but it doesn’t hold a candle to the tightly-wrapped work of art Sam’s bringing to his lips. Is that a filter?

 

“They have this thing called the internet, Sam. It’s not just for porn.”

 

Sam takes a deep drag, filling his lungs and holding it as Kevin takes the joint back.  That is good shit, not that he’d expect less from the resident Men of Letters pothead.

 

“I’m a straight A honor student and cello prodigy. I should be able to master a few youtube tutorials.”

 

Kevin’s laugh trails off a little bitter at the end. Sam knows that pain.

 

“I got into law school.”

 

Sam shakes his head and shrugs. Smoke and forgotten lives hang in the air as Sam exhales. 

 

“So you’re smart and I’m good with my hands.”

 

Sam’s cheeks heat up, and it’s not from the first wash of euphoria sweeping over him.  He knows what Kevin’s hands look like, just like he knows what a lot of Kevin looks like.

 

He thinks about it a little too much.

 

Kevin takes a hit and turns to Sam, snatching his fingers back when Sam reaches for the joint.  He grins, looking too cute for any sort of good to come from it.

 

“What’re, oh.”

 

Sam freezes as Kevin climbs into his lap, settling his weight right on Sam’s definitely not stoned right now dick. Sam’s head is a little fuzzy but he still knows he should stop Kevin from leaning down and licking into his lips.

 

The smoke is a surprise.

 

Kevin blows out, a steady stream of warm smoke pushing into Sam’s lungs as Kevin crowds into his space.  He’s warm, too, legs bent to press against Sam’s thighs. Those basketball shorts are way too big.

 

They both cough a little when Kevin’s done.

 

“How come you never flirt with me, Sam?”

 

Kevin’s smiling but his eyes are sad. Sam licks his lips, chasing away the cotton mouth and still not finding his words.  Smoke circles around Kevin’s head.

 

“I see you looking at me, you know? And I flirt with you, God, I do it all the time.  Charlie makes fun of me.”

 

“Kevin, I’m not,” Sam swallows, his throat dry.

 

“I’m not good for people.”

 

Kevin stares at him, red-rimmed eyes boring down. He takes another hit and kisses it into Sam’s mouth, firmer this time.  Sam’s body sinks down, heavy and lax under Kevin, rooted in the earth as his mind floats around him.  He should stop this, not moan when Kevin shifts his hips and starts to grind against him.

 

“You’re good for everyone, Sam.”

 

Sam breathes out smoke and pulls Kevin in, letting his hands skate up Kevin’s back.  All that tight muscle feels even better than he’d imagined.  Sam’s hard and this is the funniest thing he can imagine until he sees that Kevin’s hard too.

 

“I think about your dick all the time,” Sam blurts out, and he’d clap a hand over his mouth if they weren’t both navigating the complex folds of Kevin’s shirt.

 

“No _way_.”

 

Kevin takes one last drag before he stubs the joint out.  Sam’s ready this time, arching his neck and opening his mouth for Kevin.  They kiss, smoke billowing between them like an exorcism in reverse. Neither of them can really lay a full claim to their souls any more.

 

Sam’s kind of high.

 

“You thinking about my dick right now?”

 

Kevin rocks against him, looking down and sighing. He’s tenting up Sam’s old shorts and it’s like he read Sam’s mind. 

 

“Yes,” Sam whispers, nodding furiously. His hands skirt around Kevin’s hips, so close.  God, Sam can see it better when he presses his thumbs against Kevin’s hipbones, pulling the fabric taut until he can make out the head pressing against it.

 

Kevin inches the elastic of his waistband down, trying to look coy and lasting a few seconds before they both dissolve into laughter.  Dicks are _hilarious_.

 

“Oh wow.”  It’s all Sam can think to really say as he watches Kevin start to stroke himself.

 

Kevin guides Sam’s hand to close over his own, and Sam lets out another long _wow_ at how good that feels.  It’s been a long time since he’s touched another guy’s junk and even longer since he rubbed himself off against someone.  He’s doing at least one of those things tonight.

 

They work into a good rhythm, Kevin fucking up into their clenched hands just to drive his ass down against Sam’s cock. It feels good but watching Kevin’s face flush is even better.  He’s beautiful, radiant, his dick is magic and everything is going to be alright. At least two of those things are true.

 

It’s been a long time since Sam’s gotten off like this but it’s been a while since he’s come at all, and he’s soaking into his pajama pants before Kevin even finishes.  It’s all hazy, their hands slipping together, the kickback of his orgasm, the sound Kevin makes when he comes.

 

Kevin kisses him for real this time, no smoke and mirrors, just his tongue pressing into Sam’s mouth and he shouldn’t taste so good.

 

“Next time, you’re gonna fuck me first and _then_ we’re gonna get baked.”

 

Kevin nods once, his arms circling around Sam’s neck.

 

“In that order.”

 

“You have all sort of good ideas, Kevin.”

 

Everything around them feels thick, the wetness soaking between them, the smoke filled air, their bodies yielding to the inevitable force of gravity.  Sam couldn’t get off this couch if his life depended on it but he can’t imagine a better place to be trapped.

 

“I know.”

 

Kevin leans in, eyebrows drawing together before he whispers in Sam’s ear.

 

“I’m a prophet of the Lord.”

 

They both burst out laughing as Sam kisses him.


End file.
